An Administrative Meeting
by Thobbit
Summary: The new Administrative Warden of Stormcage Prison stops by his office after hours, only to find an unexpected visitor waiting to discuss arrangements for the prison's newest inmate.


_A/N: I just really like the idea of the Doctor doing this. He's being helpful, you see, notifying the proper authorities. Enjoy!_

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**An Administrative Meeting**

The office floor was empty when Harvey got there. There was no hum of computers or flicker of life, except that one shredder nobody could figure out how to turn off. He let himself in quietly, navigating through the dark maze of cubicles with the ease of long practice. He stopped at the large one three in from the window. The desk was bare, bereft of even a nameplate, and he smiled. Some poor sap would be getting that crappy spot now; he, Harvard Billings, had moved up in the world.

He walked purposefully now, towards the far office. His office.

The door slid open at a touch of his palm, and he paused, one hand on the doorframe, and took a deep, savoring breath. So many years of mindless paperwork to get here, and that one horrible obligatory stint with the guards. All to be Harvard Billings, Stormcage Prison Administration Warden. Not so unimpressive as people seemed to think.

He gave a small, happy sigh and turned to go. Work could start tomorrow morning. He'd only come after hours like this to enjoy the accomplishment.

"Mr. BIllings."

Harvey jumped and spun. The voice had come from inside his new office.

"Wh-who's there?" he quavered, grabbing for his comm unit. "I'm warning you, I can have a squad of Clerics here in 30 seconds––"

"None of that now. Shhh." There was a faint movement from the shadows, as of a finger being pressed against lips, and Harvey's mouth snapped shut. He completely forgot what he'd been going to say. Or do. It was disturbingly like talking to attractive women.

"That's better. I only want to chat, after all. It's so much more difficult to chat when people with guns are running about, don't you think? No, don't answer that, it's simply true. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way."

Harvey managed a weak smile, still struggling for words.

The man in the shadows continued. "A great day all over for the Stormcage, I think. Brand new prisoner, most infamous yet." There was a pause, then: "Tell me, Mr. Billings, do you know what River Song's crime was? You can un-shh."

Harvey gasped for breath. Everyone on Stormcage staff _of course_ had to undergo psychic training, and he'd always prided himself on his mental shielding, but that... And still, he answered the question instead of shouting for help. "She was convicted of murder! Magnicide, the killing of a hero! The legal term had to be invented specifically for her trial."

"And so she spends her life in jail, for a crime she can barely remember?" The tone was even and curious, yet Harvey felt defensive.

"She has the option of parole. We aren't barbarians. Even still, there was intergalactic uproar that she got off so easily!"

"Yes, she'll be here for quite a while. But I'm going to let you in on a little secret, Mr. Billings."

"Yes?" He should shout for the guards, he really should...

"River Song might be a prisoner of the Stormcage for most of her remaining life, but she will not actually be spending very much time here. Think of it as a training exercise for your guards. They'll get very good at lockdowns."

"What?" That was the final straw. He was Administration Warden; he couldn't just let security threats go by. Harvey lunged for his comm, but the stranger in the shadows was faster. Swift movement, like drawing a gun; a strange buzz, a small green light, and his comm unit burst into sparks. He couldn't even raise static.

"Please Mr. Billings, I said, 'none of that'. I distinctly remember saying 'none of that'. Let's be civilized here."

Harvey couldn't take it anymore. "Who _are_ you, and how did you get in here anyway?"

"My, have we been talking in the dark this whole time?" There was another movement in the darkness, a buzz and glow of green, and the lights flickered on. Now Harvey could see the man sitting behind his desk, leaning casually back in the chair, feet propped up on the tabletop. He was eccentrically dressed in suspenders and a bowtie, and pointing a small, silver, cylindrical thing at the ceiling, with which he'd presumably just turned on the lights.

"There, that's better. Where was I?" The man continued, as if he wasn't dressed for some Historical Costume Party, or possibly a child's birthday. "Oh, yes, River's schedule. Don't tell her I was here, by the way. She'll want to manage it all herself. Women are like that. But I want to be sure she gets what she wants, you understand?"

Harvey just stared. There didn't seem to be an adequate response, even if he knew whether to agree or call for help.

"Excellent." The man swung his legs off the desk and sat up straight in the chair, steepling his fingers in a manner disturbingly reminiscent of Harvey's least favorite college professor. "I know you people have the finest force fields government money can buy, but that shouldn't be a problem for my TARDIS. I'll just be picking her up every other night or so. Other times she'll manage it herself, of course."

"Wha––but––how? Who are you, to threaten me like this! The Stormcage has no visiting privileges! We are the highest-security prison in the galaxy, and you think you can just waltz in here, make demands, then 'pick up' one of my convicts for a _date_?"

The man in the bowtie stood and advanced on the Administration Warden. "Yes, Mr. Billings, that is exactly what I intend to do. I am not threatening you, I am merely being polite. You humans are the ones who insist on all the bureaucracy and procedure, that everyone be 'informed'. I'm just telling you what's going to happen."

Harvey gulped. The stranger had seemed young and cocky, sitting in the desk, but up close Harvey could see his eyes were so, so old. And he spoke with such authority that it was a struggle to even think about the possibility of disagreement. Still, he tried, "But who is she to you?"

"It's a long story," said the stranger, "and I've got to be out of here in..." he checked his watch––"two minutes, forty-seven seconds. Can't risk meeting myself." He turned to leave the office.

"But––who are you?"

The man paused in the doorway. Harvey, pressed against one side of the doorframe, wondered what was going to happen to him. Had the previous Admin Warden had to deal with this sort of thing? It didn't help Harvey's confidence that the stranger was about a foot taller than himself.

But the stranger just smiled. "Why, Mr. Billings, haven't you figured that out yet?" His grin widened. "I'm the man she killed." Then, with a flip of his silver device and a swish of his coat, he disappeared into the main office area. The door closed behind him, and Harvey Billings, Stormcage Administration Warden, was left alone in his suddenly dark office.


End file.
